


You Get What You Pay For

by Minstrels_y_Troubadors



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Assassination plot, Attempt at Humor, Fluff, Gen, Things that must have happened, hypothetically speaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-20 23:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12444579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minstrels_y_Troubadors/pseuds/Minstrels_y_Troubadors
Summary: Tony knows everyone and everything has a price, and there's always an expert to tell you what that is. Natashia's an expert on the cost of a death.





	You Get What You Pay For

"Madam, Mister Stark is at the door." Jarvis's voice cut gently through the quiet apartment. "Tell him to come on in," Natasha replied, sliding her bookmark into place and setting the book aside. 

Tony strode into her sitting room with a package in his hands, causing her to quirk an eyebrow curiously. He placed the box on the coffee table before her and flopped into an arm chair, saying, "This got delivered to me by mistake. I think the front desk recognized the sender as a dealer Pepper and I use pretty often and sent it to my assistant. But since I don't read Russian, I assumed it was meant for you." 

Natasha leaned forward to reach into the box, "I probably shouldn't have had it sent to N. Rushman with Pepper in New Zealand. People always assume Natalie goes where she goes," she explained with a rueful smile. "Thanks for bringing it by though." 

Tony nodded without any indication that he was on his way out again. After a moment he leaned forward propping his elbows on his thighs and resting his chin in his palm. "I don't read Russian, I do however have an AI that does and an eye for rare books. So one tells me Gogol's works are a kind of an existential nightmare and the other tells me that box is holding about 250,000 dollars. So I'm wondering, can I still use this dealer or is this payment for a hit?"

Natasha's head cocked to the right watching him momentarilly, then she gracefully unfolded from her seat and walked to her kitchen. Tony watched her go in confusion, eyes narrowed at the door until she returned with a pair of wine glasses and a bottle a few minutes later. He identified the Syrah by label as one he'd served at a team dinner some months ago. Natasha allowed him to absorb this show of wealth in silence as she set the glasses on the table and went about opening the bottle.

Passing him one of the glasses, Natasha asked curiously, "Tony, how much do you think the hit on you would've commanded 10 years ago?" 

Tony froze momentarily and then forced away the haunted feeling he question brought on and made his body relax. "A hundred million," he responded with a grin to cover his sudden anxiety, causing her to snort in amusement. "I'm glad your self worth is so high, but no. For a job like that, with such a high profile target, I'd have started at 10 million," she told him matter-of-factly, settling back into her seat and sipping her wine while he swallowed that information.

"It might've been less if it didn't matter whether it looked like a hit. After I learned about Jarvis though, the price would've gone right up. Infiltrations like the Rushman job cost extra." 

"How much extra?" he asked, relaxing back in truth, watching the wine as he swirled it gently. 

"Mmm, depends. I'd have asked at least two point five, up front for expenses." 

"Knives? Exotic poisons?" he asked, looking up with a smirk. She returned a laughing eyeroll. "Knives come as part of the package, if you want a message sent, anyway. 'Accidental' jobs, not usually. Same for exotic poisons. I've yet to put my hands on one that truly doesn't look like exactly what it is during the kind of rigorous examination I suspect Pepper and Jim would've required on your body. So, no, most of my expenses would've been in getting close to you. In building an identity that wouldn't get flagged by Jarvis as fake, allow me to enter into a position close to you or someone you trust and the time to gain enough of your trust to pull the job. An identity good enough for all that, which I would then have to burn completely."

Tony listened and nodded along, fascinated by this rare glimpse into Natasha's very special past. "So why not try just getting me into bed? That was certainly easy enough before Afghanistan."

"Mmmhm, easy to get you into bed, but to do the job and get away clean? Not with Jarvis watching. Even when I didn't know you, I'd have understood that there was no way you'd leave your main security force open to elimination by simple means like an emp burst. Getting around him would have taken far more time and opened me up to unnessassary risk. If I made a mistake I'd never be able to stop running."

"Worse though, especially to me now, is that Pepper was notorious for 'taking out your trash' at all hours. If she'd turned up at the wrong time.... I hate staging murder-suicides. Its lazy and beneath me."

She frowned and waved her free hand as if banishing that unpleasant idea, lifting her glads to drink deeply and plunged on, "So, lets call it 15 to 20 million for a competent professional to do the job. To be frank, the reason you're here enjoying this wine with me is because Stane cheaped out and hired armatures in stead of a professional."

"Should I be concerned by the offended tone in your voice right now?" Tony queried, even as he gestured to the wine bottle with his glass.

"I _am_ offended," she replied, nodding and holding her own glass to him to top up. "I'm offended in the same way you were that the Air Force let Justin Hammer outfit the Warmachine armor, even though you no longer make weapons. It simply the principle. If I couldn't be the one to do it, someone on my level should." Tony was nodding as he listened to her, understanding and empathy clear in his expression, so she expanded on the subject.

"In 2008, there were maybe... 7 people in the world with the skill to pull off that job professionally. Of that seven, Clint already worked for SHIELD. And as far as I know, Fury had no plans to take you out so Clint had neither reason nor freedom to move on you. Not that he'd have had the time since his mission then was bringing me down."Her voice when she told him this was both proud and amused. Because of Clint? Because of herself? Who would ever know.  
"I was too busy avoiding him and all other interested parties to even consider a job that involved. If history had gone differently, though, I know I would've enjoyed the challenge." Natasha's smile was pleased and sharp.

Tony cleared his throat, making her refocus on the moment, "And the other five?" He urged, fascinated.

"Hard to say, we aren't really in touch much. And the job didn't come up in any of the usual ways. Thats part of what I mean by cheaping out. A professional uses someone to broker the deal. It adds a layer of insulation. One thing a broker does is they identify and confirm the target and the expectations of the client. Stane didn't bother with a broker, didn't even try to hire a pro for the job."

" In their ransom demand, the Ten Rings told Stane he'd 'paid a pittance to murder a prince.' That tells us they didn't know who the target was when he contracted the hit, but once they figured it out they knew you were far more valuable that a few hundred thousand dollars worth of arms. When he ignored it," she shrugs, "the plan was altered. If they could've kept you the rest of your life inventing for them..." She lets the comment hang and sips her wine. 

"Anyway, my original point was, wet work doesn't come cheap, and you get what you pay for. I've been doing it all of my life and I'm one of the best in the world. So I used to command a high price when I was independent, and my paygrade with SHIELD is on par with members of Congress. I've invested wisely during my years with SHIELD and before. I might not be a billionaire, but by anyone else's standard I'm considered quite well off. So, yes, I can afford these things. I enjoy investing in bits of my cultural history. Plus, books and art are great ways to hide or launder money."

Tony sits quietly finishing his wine, focused on absorbing the information. When he finished off his wine, he set the glass on the table and leaned forward. "There's one thing that's not clear to me though."  
"Okay..."  
"If wet work commands so much money... why am I always paying for everything?"

Thrown by the direction of his comment, no words came out when she tried to respond.

"J!" Tony call bounding out of the chair, "Make a note: tonight's team dinner is on Natasha. And the next one is on Harvey Birdman," Tony's practically out of the door when he turns his shit eating grin back on her. "Some where good J, and expensive. No one wants to regret cheaping out on something like this." 

Point made and immensely pleased with himself, Tony took off down the hall, whistling. 

"I hate him," Natasha muttered fondly to herself.

**Author's Note:**

> I started wondering one day why Tony pays for everything. Sure, Bruce is destitute from years on the lamb, and Steve was frozen for 70 years and Thor clearly doesn't have pockets, and probably doesn't undersand our money, but Clint and Natasha are master assassins/spies. Wet work can't come cheap, so I felt like maybe we should talk about that.
> 
> This is the first story I've managed to complete and post so, I'm pleased with myself. Thanks for reading.


End file.
